The Pretend Boyfriend (The Pretend Boyfriend #4)(20)
Author: Artemis Hunt

“Relax,” Karen says, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Sam takes hold of his hands. “Brian, sit down. I’ll get a cup of coffee.”

“No thanks. I can’t relax.”

Angelique gazes out of the window into the gardens below. She doesn’t say anything.

Brian says anxiously, “It still doesn’t rule out that I didn’t do it. She never admitted out loud that I didn’t rape her. Not on the recording, at least. I don’t remember her ever admitting it once.”

“Brian.” Sam seizes his arms and tries to make him sit down. “You did everything you could. We did everything we could. That she had a motive to set you up is not in doubt.”

“But no one really knows what happened that night except her. I certainly don’t.” Brian runs a hand over his chestnut hair. “I-I still could have done it, you know. Maybe we should have called Dr. Robertson in as a witness to testify that I’m basically harmless. Maybe we should – ”

“Brian, it’s OK,” Karen says in a soothing voice.

Someone taps their door. “Jury’s in.”

“Oh shit.” Brian feels like bolting. His palms are sweaty and his skin feels as if it has been dunked in ice.

Sam grips his arm fiercely. “I’m here with you, all the way, OK?” She turns him to face her. Her wide eyes contain such a kaleidoscope of emotions that his chest suddenly feels weightless.

“I love you, OK?” she whispers. “I love you, Brian. I’ve loved you for a long, long time.”

The floor opens at his feet and it’s as though he is losing his balance.

“I-I love you too,” he whispers back. Just in case he doesn’t get to say it again. “I’ve loved you since . . . I don’t know when. Somewhere along the line, when we . . . oh shit. I just love you, OK?”

“Let’s go, Brian,” Karen says firmly.

They troop back into the courtroom and take their seats. The jury files in. Their faces are solemn. Mostly blank. Some of the women openly eye Brian with interest. He tries to gauge their expressions, but they are not giving anything away.

Behind him, he can sense Sam’s warm, comforting presence. Her love. Even if everything doesn’t turn out the way he wants it to, at least he has that.

The Judge comes in. Everyone stands and sits on ceremony.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?”

The foreman rises. She is a formidable-looking woman in her fifties. Six foot tall and with a frame which can take on several football players.

“Yes, we have, your Honor.”

“How do you find the defendant?”

Brian sucks in his breath. I love you, Sam, no matter what.

The foreman looks right at Brian when she says this in her dyke-ish, schoolmarm, stentorian manner. “We, members of the jury, find the defendant, Brian Morton, not guilty of first degree rape.”

There’s a rushing in Brian’s ears that almost drowns out all other sounds. He barely perceives the hug that Karen whips him up in. His vision is a blur when the familiar arms of Sam enclose him in a bear hug so encompassing that his ribs almost cave in.

“You did it,” he hears her whisper fiercely.

“I didn’t do anything,” he mumbles into her hair, “you and Karen did it all.”

“I’m so happy for you, darling,” he hears Angelique’s voice.

“Thanks, Mom.” His voice croaks a little at this. He opens his arms to embrace her in a three-way hug. He feels like hugging the world, he’s that relieved. If he has room to hug one more person, he would like to enfold Karen in it too. But she has gone across to Norma Hennessey to shake her hand.

His vision swims a little, but his faintness soon clears up. Across the room, Delilah Fawkes is glaring at him as if she would like to turn him into stone. But there’s sadness mixed in that stare – a wistful wanting of things that could have been.

I’m sorry, Adie, he thinks. But he doesn’t go to her. She has done too much for him to forgive her that easily.

Sam grabs his face and kisses him in full view of the courtroom. He kisses her back with all the hunger that has been denied him. It’s as if several megaton burdens have been lifted off his back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a police officer approach Adie. Norma Hennessey is grim as Adie and the officer converse in low voices. Then Adie resignedly follows the officer out of the courtroom.

EPILOGUE

The reception area of ‘Shape’ is decked out for a party even bigger than the one they had on opening day. Balloons, streamers and multicolored ribbons dance everywhere, and the buffet spread is filled with pasta, all sorts of hams and sausages and rack of lamb, and more fried chicken and desserts that anyone can eat. Club music blares from the speakers, filling the gym with a pulsing techno beat.

Sam has invited everyone they can think of. Everyone they are speaking to, at least. Certainly not Delilah Faulkner, who is being charged with blackmail and falsifying an accusation. But Caleb and Cassie are here, and so is Angelique, who conveniently neglected to bring along her husband. Not that it matters to Brian, who is relieved his father isn’t here.

Brian and Caleb are hugging each other and talking quietly in a corner. Brian looks amazing. It’s as if years have been lifted off his face, and he looks well-slept and serene. He has cut his hair in a different and more attractive style, and worn a white T-shirt which shows off his biceps nicely.

Cassie comes up with a plate laden with macarons. “Great spread you have here for Brian’s celebration party. Delilah still pressing charges against you?”

“Yes.” There’s no way Sam can get out of the breaking and entering charge, but Karen is confident the judge will be lenient.

“We’ll try to get you off on community service,” Karen said. “Under the extenuating circumstances, there’s no way anyone can prosecute you beyond that. A sentence of community service will be a legal way of letting everyone know that they can’t get away with vigilante investigation or justice.”

“I know,” Sam replied ruefully.

But still, that’s the best she can hope for.

The tinkling of a fork on a glass arrests their attention. Brian is in front of the reception desk. He beams. Sam thinks he has never looked so gorgeous.

He announces, “I want to make a speech, and I promise you it will be as short as the hem of Lydia’s skirt.”

He makes a mock grab for Lydia’s ass.

Lydia gives a yowl as she covers her ass. Everyone laughs. The trainer’s skirt she is wearing today is so short as to practically give everyone an eyeful of her lacy white panties.